


A Different Kind of Talk

by evilwriter37



Series: Scholar’s Mate [12]
Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Intervention, M/M, Relationship Abuse, Yelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 08:42:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20094484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilwriter37/pseuds/evilwriter37
Summary: Stoick recruits Fishlegs to help him intervene in Hiccup's relationship with Viggo.





	A Different Kind of Talk

Fishlegs convinced Hiccup to let him stay with Stoick while he went out to pick up their dinner. He thought it odd, but Fishlegs commented that he was tired. He really wasn’t. He had to talk to Stoick.

They sat in the living room, waiting for Hiccup’s return. They couldn’t have this conversation with him around.

“So tell me about this guy Hiccup’s with,” Stoick started. “You said he was a professor?”

Fishlegs nodded. He felt nervous and upset talking about this. He didn’t like going behind Hiccup’s back like this, but _ something _had to be done.

“Yeah. Business professor. His name’s Viggo Grimborn.”

The name clearly gave Stoick pause, but he resumed the expression that said he was listening. He sat in the big armchair, elbows on his knees, fist holding up one cheek, eyes intent. Hiccup’s father had noticed that there was something going on with Hiccup when he’d stopped visiting for the weekends, when he’d stopped returning phone calls and texts, and when he did call or text, his responses were rushed, vague, and strange. Hiccup had told him he was dating someone, but that was all. Being Hiccup’s roommate and best friend, Stoick had contacted Fishlegs to find out what was going on. Now, it was winter break and Hiccup had had no choice but to leave campus and come home. Fishlegs and Stoick both saw it as the perfect time to do something about this. Hiccup’s other friends were home as well, and they had guessed something was up, but so far, Stoick had only recruited him.

“How old is he?”

Fishlegs shrugged. “Late thirties? Early forties?”

Stoick winced. Of course he wouldn’t want his son dating someone that much older. The gender of the person had nothing to do with it.

“What can you tell me about him?” Stoick asked.

“Not much really,” Fishlegs answered. “I don’t take any of his classes and he’s pretty secretive. I know he’s classy and he’s got money. He’s from somewhere in England. I don’t have anything important.” He spread his hands hopelessly.

Stoick pursed his lips, looking upset about that, but then he nodded, accepting that there was no more information in that direction.

“What about Hiccup?”

“Hiccup met him the third week of college,” Fishlegs said. “At the chess club. He heads it. He almost beat him in a game and Viggo seemed impressed, so he invited him over.” He tapped his chin, trying to recall events. “Hiccup went, but for some reason he didn’t tell me till afterwards. I was so worried. He was gone the whole night! Didn’t come back till the morning!”

There was a grim look on Stoick’s face.

“He’s been acting weird ever since. He’ll disappear on weekends and some weeknights, not tell any of us where he’s going. We didn’t even know what was going on for a while, but the twins figured it out and Hiccup spilled it to all of us that he’s dating him. He kept acting weird though, keeping his outings secretive, not always texting back or giving clear answers. He’s kind of started isolating himself. He gets irritable too now.”

“Hiccup has an attitude,” Stoick said to that last one. “You know that.”

“Yeah, but more than usual,” Fishlegs told him. “And at first he would just wear a towel to the shower, but he started wearing a robe. Sometimes I see bruises on him.”

Stoick’s eyes went big at the mention of bruises.

“_ Where _?”

“His back, his wrists. I never see any marks or anything on his face though.”

“Cunning bastard,” Stoick muttered. “So he’s abusing Hiccup.”

It wasn’t a question, but Fishlegs nodded anyway. All the signs were there.

“He gives him lots of gifts though,” Fishlegs said. “It seems like Hiccup always has new stuff now.”

“_ Rich, _cunning bastard,” Stoick corrected. He sighed, shook his head. He looked very distressed. “Do you think Hiccup knows it’s abuse?”

“I only know about it because I read,” Fishlegs said. “We learned _ nothing _about relationship violence in high school.”

“Goddammit.” Fishlegs wondered if Stoick hadn’t taught him about that, probably hoping that the school would do it for him. “Well, there’s nothing to do but talk to him.”

“Just… don’t ruin dinner please,” Fishlegs begged. He was hungry, and eating pizza while his friend got a tongue-lashing wouldn’t be a fun activity.

“I won’t,” Stoick promised.

As he ate, Hiccup couldn’t help noticing that his dad and his friend were quieter than usual. He tried to start conversation, but it all fell straight into tension. He didn’t know why. His gut curled with anxiety. Had he done something wrong? Had something happened while he was out getting the pizza?

“Guys, what’s up?” Hiccup asked after wiping his face on a napkin. He’d just finished, hadn’t wanted a heavy conversation to ruin good food. He reached for his glass of soda.

“What’s up?” Fishlegs repeated. “What do you mean ‘what’s up’? Nothing’s-”

“We have to talk to you,” Stoick interrupted.

Yep. Something was up.

“Okay…” Hiccup took a sip of his drink, gingerly put his glass back down, not feeling too good about any of this. “What is it?”

“I know you’re dating someone,” Stoick said bluntly.

Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Dad, now isn’t a great time for The Talk. You couldn’t even get your words out last time you tried.”

“Yes, well, this is a different kind of talk.” Stoick pushed in his chair a little, sat up straighter.

_ Fuck, does he know I’m bi? Is he not happy about it? _Hiccup was out with practically everyone he knew, that was, except for his own father. He’d been so unsure of how he would react, so afraid of it, that he just hadn’t ever told him.

“Dad, look, if you’re not happy I’m dating a guy, then-”

“I don’t care that you’re dating a man,” Stoick interrupted, which was good, because Hiccup had been rather unsure of what he was saying even while it was coming out of his mouth. “I don’t care about the gender of who you date. I just want them to treat you well.”

Hiccup swallowed, eyed Fishlegs, then glanced back at his dad.

“He does treat me well.” Viggo treated him _ splendidly. _ He treated him like a _ king _. He fed him lavish meals, took him to exclusive places, gave him expensive gifts… He was an excellent boyfriend as far as Hiccup was concerned.

“Not the way I’m hearing it.” Stoick folded his arms.

“What do you mean?” Hiccup turned on Fishlegs, feeling angry now. His friend had told his dad about his dating life behind his back? “What did you tell him?” he snapped.

“That he sees bruises on you.” Stoick drew his attention back to him. “He hits you, doesn’t he?”

Hiccup’s face flushed. Viggo _ did _hit him, but not in an act of violence. The last thing he wanted to do was divulge his kinky sex life to his father, but it looked like he might have to. Maybe he could try to keep avoiding it for now.

“No.”

“Then where do the bruises come from?”

“I fell out of bed.”

“No you did not!” Fishlegs retorted. “I would have heard it! And besides, they’re too frequent for that.”

“Hey, you’re a heavy sleeper,” Hiccup insisted, jabbing a finger at him. That was a lie. Fishlegs was a rather light sleeper due to his anxiety. Sometimes, Hiccup was sure that the drop of a pin could wake him up. He would have definitely heard it had he really fallen out of bed.

Fishlegs crossed his arms too, looking stubborn. “They’re in the wrong places.”

“And what places have you seen them in?” Hiccup asked. He thought he’d been doing a good job at hiding the marks Viggo left on his body. They weren’t bad marks, but he didn’t want people knowing what he was up to. Kink and sex shaming were a rampant thing, and he didn’t want it targeted at himself. 

“Your wrists, your back, back of your legs,” Fishlegs listed off. “And I know you wear that robe to the shower to cover them up. You never used to do that.”

Hiccup let out a growl of frustration. What was he to do?

“He’s not abusing me.”

“From what Fishlegs is telling me, it sounds like you started dating this Viggo and then the bruises started showing up,” Stoick said. “So I’d say he is abusing you.”

“I…” Hiccup swallowed. God, he really didn’t want to have to do this. “I let him hit me.”

“Whether or not you fight back has nothing to do with if it’s abuse or not,” Stoick said. He pressed a finger to his palm. “If he hits you, he’s abusing you.”

Hiccup shook his head. “No, no. It’s not clear cut like that.”

“Then what is it?” Stoick looked frustrated.

“I-I let him hit me as a part of, um…” Well, looked like he was really doing this, “Sex.”

“Excuse me?” Stoick looked astonished. Hiccup’s face went fiercely red. He looked down at his plate, fiddled with a lone piece of crust on it.

“Yeah,” he said, voice almost a squeak. “W-we do that.”

Fishlegs whistled awkwardly.

“Did he _ ask _ first?” Stoick inquired.

“Yeah.” Hiccup cleared his throat. “He did.”

“And do you… do you enjoy it?”

“Dad, I really don’t want to talk about this right now,” Hiccup whined.

“No, we’re talking about it,” Stoick told him firmly. “I need to know what’s going on.”

“In front of Fishlegs?” Hiccup gave his friend an apologetic look, but this would be awkward enough without him here.

“Yes, in front of Fishlegs,” Stoick insisted. “He’s worried about you.”

“Yeah, Hiccup,” Fishlegs put in. “All of us are.”

Hiccup threw up his hands, frustrated and angry. “Okay, fine! Your son’s a kinky son of a bitch who likes getting hit in bed! You happy now?!”

“No, actually, I’m not happy.” His father’s gaze could have melted a glacier. “Viggo’s what? Twenty years older than you?”

Hiccup ground his teeth. The answer was twenty two, but he didn’t want to hear it.

“Mom was younger than you,” Hiccup said, aiming for a low blow.

Stoick looked flabbergasted. For a moment his mouth moved and nothing came out. Then he slammed a fist on the table.

“You will not bring your mother into this! The fact of the matter is you are dating a man who is much older than you and he’s isolating you from the rest of your life! It doesn’t matter if the hitting is consensual! There is something not right going on!”

“He’s not isolating me!”

“Then why don’t you answer your phone?” Stoick questioned. “Why don’t you text back? Why don’t you come over on the weekends?”

“Because I’m busy. Jeez! I’m in college! What did you expect? Me to have _ so _much free time?!” Hiccup was not happy with any of this. The age gap between his mother and father hadn’t been as large as his and Viggo’s but he still thought that it didn’t give him the right to be angry about it.

“Hiccup, you’re never even in the room,” Fishlegs argued. “You always say you’re in the science building.”

“I am.”

“Well, sorry if I don’t believe you.” Fishlegs was getting grumpy now too. “Do you sleep there too?”

“I work all night,” Hiccup lied. In truth, he’d fallen behind on his homework multiple times the first semester and knew he could do better with time management, but that was on him, not Viggo.

“I don’t see you guzzling coffee like you did.”

“Yeah, because we never hang out anymore!”

“And whose fault is that?!”

Hiccup stopped, realizing that that part was most definitely his fault. He’d been spending more time with Viggo than any of his friends. He was just so… enamoring, enticing. What was it about him that was keeping him from his friends?

“Fishlegs, I’m sorry.” He lowered his voice for that. It was a genuine apology. “I don’t mean it.” 

“That’s because _ he’s _ doing this to you!” Fishlegs cried. “God, you can’t even see it, can you?”

Hiccup stood. “I’m not having this conversation.”

“You sit back down right now!” Stoick shouted. The force of it put Hiccup right back in his chair like he’d never even gotten up. His dad could be very authoritative. He _ was _ the mayor.

“Hiccup.” His father’s voice had softened. “The fact of the matter is that there are red flags for abuse, and it looks like that’s what’s happening to you. Isolation from friends and family is a big sign, and not a good one.”

“He’s not the one doing that,” Hiccup said. “It’s me, okay? I’m just… I’m not used to balancing all of this.”

Stoick eyed him suspiciously, obviously not buying it. “Does he do anything that seems suspicious? Go through your things? Control your time? Look at your phone?”

Hiccup swallowed. Viggo did all of those things, but he hadn’t felt bad about any of it. He had absolutely nothing to hide from him. He didn’t know how to answer. Though, his pause seemed to be answer enough.

“Oh, so he does.”

“I never said that. I didn’t say anything.”

“He does, doesn’t he?”

“Maybe.”

Stoick sighed, rubbed at his face with one hand. “Hiccup, I don’t like you dating him. I don’t like you dating him at all. He’s much too old for you, he has authority over you as a professor, he isolates you, he invades your privacy.” He shook his head. “It’s not good. Clearly you can see that.”

Hiccup looked down at the electronic watch Viggo had given him as a gift. Even the clothes he was wearing at the moment were a gift from him. Viggo couldn’t be abusing him. No way. He was too good to him for that. The way he held him and kissed him and talked to him was too sincere, too meaningful, too gentle.

“He’s not abusing me.”

“Hiccup, I just listed all the ways in which he is!”

Hiccup didn’t think of that as abuse. He thought of violence and hitting as a abuse, and Viggo never did that outside of their play. He never even yelled at him either. Viggo wasn’t a violent man.

“Dad, he’s not! You haven’t heard anything about the good he does!”

“He’s honeying it up then.”

“No he’s not! He’s a good man!” Hiccup cried. “But all you’ve heard is bad! Admit it! Admit your problem is with me dating a man!” That had to be the underlying issue here.

“Hiccup!” Stoick sounded absolutely shocked. “Why would you even think that’s what the problem is?”

“Maybe because your generation is super homophobic.” Hiccup leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms indignantly. Fishlegs had dropped his arms a while ago, was just staring at Hiccup and Stoick in dismay, inching his chair back a little.

“So you think I am?”

“Maybe.”

“When have I ever acted like I am?” Stoick questioned.

Hiccup tried to think of an example, but there weren’t any. He was just putting his own insecurities on his dad.

“Hiccup, I said I don’t care who you’re dating as long as they’re treating you right,” Stoick told him. 

“And as long as they’re not older than me,” Hiccup added snidely. He hated all of this so much. He hadn’t wanted his dad to know for these exact reasons. He’d known he would get mad at him for it. There wasn’t even anything for him to be mad _ about. _

“Please, I need you to see reason in this.”

“I _ am _seeing reason,” Hiccup retorted. He pointed an angry finger. “You’re the one who’s not!”

Stoick put a fist on the table. “You _ need _to end things with this man.”

“No I don’t! How dare you!”

“How dare I? How dare I do what?”

“Act like you’re in control of my dating life and my sex life!” Hiccup answered, throwing out his hands. He spilled his drink in the process. He muttered a curse, stood, the soda dripping all over his shirt and his pants. He reached for a handful of napkins, began hurriedly cleaning up the spill on the table.

“I’m not acting like I’m in control. I’m trying to help you!”

“How about you help me when I actually need it, huh?!” The spill was definitely going to stain the tablecloth.

“Hiccup…” Stoick reached a hand out towards him.

“Forget it!” Hiccup yelled, the loudest he had during the entire back-and-forth, throwing down the dripping napkins. “I’m going to my room!” He nearly tripped on Fishlegs’ chair trying to maneuver away from his own. “Sorry, Fishlegs,” he added hurriedly. He would have felt worse about his friend’s evening being ruined if he hadn’t been the one to help that along.

“Don’t walk away from this!” Stoick yelled.

“Too late!” Hiccup stormed up the stairs to his room, shut and locked the door behind him. Then he just stood there, breathing hard in anger. Tears were threatening to come, tears of betrayal. He’d trusted Fishlegs. And he’d trusted his dad. Yet they didn’t want him to be happy, wanted him to break up with Viggo over stupid reasons. They couldn’t see the good in him. All they saw was bad, and maybe that was because of his age.

Hiccup strode into his room, paced a little on the carpet, then turned and kicked his dresser. He was glad he’d kept his boots on or that would have really hurt his toes. 

“Stupid! Fucking stupid!”

After a moment, there came a tentative knock on the door. “Hiccup, can I come in?” It was Fishlegs.

“No, Fishlegs.” Hiccup took off his stained shirt, kicked off his boots so he could work on removing his pants too. He had to change. “I’m sorry. Just go home.” Fishlegs’ house was in walking distance. It was cold, but maybe he deserved a walk in the cold after what he’d done to him.

“Please. I just want to talk.” Hiccup rifled through his drawer for a pair of heavy black jeans, pulled them on.

“I _ said no. _”

The sound of receding footsteps. It was many minutes later, when Hiccup had found a shirt, that there was another knock on the door, this one loud and confident.

“Hiccup, open the door,” Stoick demanded. 

“Leave me the fuck alone.” Hiccup sat on his bed, pulled out his phone. He sent a text to Viggo.

** **

“We’re not done talking about this.”

Hiccup rose, deciding he was going to pack his things. There was no point in staying here, not if his father was going to shout at him the entire time.

“Yeah we are.”

“You unlock this door this instant!”

“No!”

Hiccup grabbed for the duffle bag and the backpack that he’d emptied only a week ago. There were three more weeks of winter break, and spending it with his dad was not going to happen.

Silence from the other side of the door. It seemed his dad had left. Maybe he would have the decency to give Fishlegs a ride home. There was snow on the ground. Hiccup still didn’t feel bad if he had to walk.

As he began putting clothes into the duffle bag, he got a text back from Viggo.

** **

Hiccup scrambled to text back. He needed to get out of here as soon as possible. The hour and a half wait was going to be torture.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Hiccup breathed. He ran a hand through his hair. He knew that by the time Viggo arrived it would be a mess from him pulling at it. He continued packing, hoping his dad wouldn’t try to come to talk to him again.

When he had all his things settled, Hiccup grabbed his earbuds and threw himself carelessly onto his bed on his back. He shoved them in. He selected some of his heavier rock music to listen to, put it loud, wanting to drown out any attempted conversation from his dad, and his own thoughts. God, he was so angry right now, so frustrated, so hurt and betrayed. This wasn’t _ fair _. He was an adult. His dad didn’t get to treat him like this!

Hiccup didn’t know if his dad tried talking to him in the next hour and a half. His music was much too loud. Frankly, he didn’t mind what his dad was doing as long as he kept away from him.

Finally, the text came.

** ** ****

Hiccup turned off his music, shoved his earbuds into his bag, knowing he would have to untangle them later, and grabbed his bags, slinging one over each shoulder. He left his room, uncaring of where his dad was or if he would try to stop him. He was going with Viggo whether he liked it or not.

His dad was in the living room when he got downstairs. He had to cross it and into the kitchen to leave. His coat was hanging on the coat rack in the kitchen.

“Hey, what’s with all the bags?”

“I’m leaving.”

Stoick abruptly stood, putting down the book he’d probably been having difficulty reading because of his own thoughts.

“No you are not.”

Hiccup hurried into the kitchen before his dad could move to block his way. He heard him follow him in, and he hurriedly dropped his bags so he could put on his coat.

“Where are you even going?”

“Viggo’s.”

Stoick didn’t grab Hiccup as he took his bags and swiftly went out the door into the night. He saw Viggo’s Violet Phantom parked at the end of the driveway. He knew his dad wouldn’t forcibly grab him, but he still had to get out of here as quickly as possible. He was unsure of what he would do to Viggo. He was the mayor and he had money. He could use that to get out of any criminal charges. He was angry enough to do something bad, to harm who he thought deserved it.

“You get back here this instant!” Despite not wearing a coat, Stoick followed Hiccup out into the cold, the door slamming behind him.

“No!” Hiccup shouted over his shoulder, striding over to Viggo’s car. He wanted to run but that would be undignified. Best was an infuriated power walk.

“Hey!” Stoick had turned his attention on Viggo now. He had the window up, but he turned his head to look, clearly able to hear his yelling through it. “You stay away from my son!”

Hiccup rushed around to the passenger side, threw his bags in the back, and climbed in.

“You stay away from him! You bet I’m calling the school about this!”

“Drive, drive, drive!” Hiccup yanked his seatbelt into place as his dad approached the driver’s side window. He wondered if the power of one of his huge fists could break it.

Viggo shoved the gear into drive and stepped on the gas. They pulled away from the driveway with a screech of tires, leaving Stoick with nothing but the smell of exhaust.

  
  


It was a long time before Hiccup could calm down enough to speak. Viggo had put a hand on his knee to comfort him when he wasn’t using both hands to steer.

“Thank you,” he got out.

Viggo inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Fishlegs told my dad about you,” Hiccup said. “They think you’re abusing me.”

Viggo took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at him. It didn’t last long though. They were on the highway, so he had to give it his concentration.

“And what do you think?”

“I think that’s ridiculous!” Hiccup cried. “And my dad got mad about the age gap even though he and my mom had a big one! It’s hypocritical! It’s stupid!”

Viggo nodded thoughtfully. There seemed to be something on his mind.

“A-are you worried about what he said?” Hiccup asked. “About calling the college?”

“No,” Viggo answered. “Even if the college did do an investigation, which is highly doubtful, it’s not like they would find anything incriminating. You said it yourself. It’s not an abusive relationship.”

“What if they were upset about you having a relationship with a student?”

“They won’t find anything there either,” Viggo said. “None of my colleagues know about it, and any emails to you were through my personal computer.”

Hiccup nodded. He’d been nervous about all that. He wiped his hand on his jeans.

“Thank you,” he said again. “I doubt I could have spent the rest of winter break with him.”

“Well, you are free to spend it with me.” Viggo flashed him a smile, and it made all of Hiccup’s worries melt away. “We have three weeks. What should we do first?”


End file.
